


If Only in My Dreams

by Listenerofshadows



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Forget Relationship Angst, Friendship Angst is where it's at, Gen, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Logan is Exasperated at Roman's antics, Misunderstandings, Roman Saves the Day, Virgil is Anxious Boi who is trying his Best, Who deserves a lotta love, holiday fic, patton is a sweetheart, yes I know it's February it's for a winter big bang shuush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listenerofshadows/pseuds/Listenerofshadows
Summary: All Virgil wants for Christmas is to visit his best friend Patton back home in Florida. Is that really too much to ask for?...Apparently it is.





	1. I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas, Just Like the Ones I Never Knew

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my Holiday fic that I am posting in the middle of February as part of the Sander Sides Winter Big Bang (Golly, what a mouthful!).
> 
> Many thanks to Acantha_Echo who beta'd this fic for me and to the mods of the @Sanderssidesbang on Tumblr for hosting this event <3

Being cold sucks. Now, most people chose the latter when it comes to the question, “Do you prefer to be hot or cold?” But then, Virgil had never been most people. Growing up in Florida meant he was used to the heat. He spent his childhood traipsing the woods in the middle of summer.

He was not used to the cold, especially the likes of a New England winter. It was another stark reminder he was not in Kansas anymore--to quote a 1939 film by the name of _Wizard of Oz_. He missed Florida, humidity and all. If it wasn’t his parents and their impossibly high standards, he’d be attending a local state university right now.

But it was their money funding most of his education, and there was certainly no way he could pay for it on his own without resorting to student loans. Virgil might’ve done a number of probably stupid things in his life, but he wasn’t that stupid. He was lucky enough they’d acquiesced on his chosen degree after he wouldn’t budge. His parents weren’t too fond of the idea of their child being an Arts Major over pursuing a degree in Engineering.

Massachusetts was totally different than the swamplands of Florida. The towns all squashed together, bleeding into each other almost seamlessly. There was so little room to build compared to the more sprawled out Florida. The trees were taller and their fall colors were more brilliant. Even the people were different compared to Floridians.

It made Virgil all the more homesick for the familiarity that was his home state.

That homesick would not subside, and instead it made him miserable and angry. He had no friends. He went to classes all day, and when he wasn’t at classes, he worked. He manically counted down the days until winter break, where he could finally take a quick reprieve from dreary Massachusetts.

He missed his best friend Patton, who was studying at the local community college back home. He missed his dog Zero. Most of all, he missed the sunny, humid weather of Florida. He was tired of having to wear three layers of clothing every time he had to go out. He couldn’t wait until he got off the plane in Florida.

That didn’t happen, of course. In a more fairytale ending, he hopped on a plane and never returned to Massachusetts ever. But the narrative build up to this moment didn’t allow for such happy daydreams of his.

First, it began with a single flurry. Then a whole shitton of them, until there was enough for them to get Virgil’s flight cancelled. A flight that was already cutting it close to Christmas Eve. All subsequent flights were booked, weeks in advance. The earliest he could hope to arrive in Florida was December 27th, two days after Christmas. However, come December 27th he would still be in Massachusetts.

“Your father and I talked, and we think it’s best if you stayed in Massachusetts. Last minute flights are always crazy expensive and besides it doesn’t make sense for you to come up when you’d be already missing Christmas. You understand, don’t you son?”

“Yeah I--” He swallowed, “I understand.”

“I knew you would,” His mother said, and he could picture her shallow smile in his mind’s eye, “Merry Christmas.”

The phone call ended. Virgil stared down at his phone, took a deep breath, and chucked it at his bed. Anger gnawed at his insides. How dare she had the nerve to wish him a Merry Christmas in the same breath as telling him he was unwanted. She hadn’t said that in words, no, but why else would his parents leave him stranded in Massachusetts by himself for the Holidays? Was this their way of dealing with him? Shipping him off halfway across the country where they never had to deal with him again? So he could be out of sight, out of mind?

Virgil had never been good enough for them. Too anxious, too emo, and too--well, the last thing he wanted to think about was high school right now.

More than anything, he was angry at himself. He didn’t fight back, try to protest. He just agreed with her. Because despite everything, he was still a little kid who just wanted to please his parents. It made him want to vomit.

God, what was he going to tell Patton? The two had things planned things for days. Virgil felt sick at the idea of letting Patton down. He could scrounge up enough money by himself for a flight to Florida, but then what? He was certainly not welcomed at his house, and Patton was sure to have relatives over for the holidays. He couldn’t just impose like that. Besides Patton probably had other friends to hang out with. He was always better at making friends than him. With Virgil out of the picture, he would probably be relieved to have time to spend with them and not Virgil, a lousy, terrible friend. Hot tears pricked his eyes as a sob heaved from his throat.

 _‘Stop crying, you need to grow up._ ’ A voice sounding awfully like his father reprimanded him.

But he couldn’t stop, not when the realization was hitting him like a fast moving object with enough velocity to kill him. Tears flowed down his cheeks until there was enough to exhaust him to sleep. Sleep, as it was, was only a brief respite from unforgiving reality. He woke up shivering the next day.

 

* * *

 

As much as Roman Prince’s personality could rival the sun with its’ intensity, he preferred enduring the cold versus suffering the heat. There was a few reasons. He’d grew up all his life on the Northeast coast. He actually liked snow--the idea of going a whole winter without snow seemed inconceivable to him. What did children do without snowball fights and snowmen to build?

Sure dealing with snow turning into sludge was bothersome. With the cold came a multitude of dismal cloudy days. But Roman was a romanticist, and even in that he could find beauty within it.

Not to mention, Roman burnt terribly in the sun. His Irish blood did not lend well in that department. It was loathsome to admit, but Roman had no tan to speak of. Even after spending years attempting to attain one, it was to no avail. His inevitably sunburned skin would peel away to reveal even whiter skin underneath. All that agony, for no reward!

Being hot was miserable--he meant that in the literal sense. Being aesthetically physically pleasing in the eyes of societal standards was hardly a hardship. He should know, being one of the top ten most beautiful people in the world. Having the sun beat on you until you felt like gingerbread men stuck in an oven? Now that, that was miserable.

In the cold, you could at least survive with layers of clothing on. What do you in the heat? Take off your skin?

He felt much more at ease in the cold, thank you very much.

Still, even with this sentiment, he still enjoyed coming into toasty warm buildings after trudging through the biting cold. That was part of what made the cold worth it. Sure you had your dips into cool refreshing waters and ice cream when it came from taking a reprieve from the heat. But in Roman’s eyes nothing beat drinking hot chocolate and reading a book by the roaring fire after trudging through snow and ice.

That was why he was immensely disappointed when he walked into his apartment to find it was just as freezing as the outside he’d entered from. If not even more so.

Was it supposed to be this cold? Granted both Roman and his roommate had been away from the apartment. There was no need for the heat to be cranked up without them home. Yet, he remembered somewhere in the legal jargon he had to sit through for the lease that there was some requirement for the apartment to remain at a certain temperature. This was certainly not it.

Whatever, that was a problem for another day. Right now, the great and mighty Prince was here on a quest; to find the Christmas gift he’d accidentally left behind. His hometown was only about forty five minutes away--he would’ve returned for it sooner if not the blizzard had struck. His older brother had insisted it was fine.

“Christmas, in the grand scheme of things is only a day. I am sure the gift will just as meaningful a week or two late as it would’ve been Christmas Day.”

It was true. Roman knew that. However, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do in the existential void that was December 26th through New Year’s Eve. He left in the morning, leaving a note to explain his whereabouts. A bit old fashioned, but a simple text had none of the dramatics that a note had.

The front door opened to the messy living room, where there was a bundle of blankets sprawled across the couch. Directly facing the living room was the kitchen’s cutesy breakfast bar. Straight across was a hallway that branched out into two bedrooms. His gloomy roommate occupied the room on the left while the room on the right belonged to Roman.

He marched towards his bedroom, bursting it open with a loud bang.

“The fun has aaaarrived!” He sang out to an invisible audience, “Thank you very much!”

What? He might’ve been alone but he could still quote Disney films all he wanted. With Tarzan on his mind, he started humming Phil Collins.

Roman zeroed in on his closet, letting out a triumphant laugh when he spotted the wrapped gift behind his laundry hamper. Yes! It was right where he’d knew he left it! He had been almost certain he’d spend a whole year ransacking the place to try and find it.

Now all he had to do was walk past the living room, to the front door and make the drive back to his brother’s house. It seemed simple in practice. So simple, he didn’t even have to consciously think about it. He hummed, spring in his step as he carried it out of his room, past the hallway, past the living room couch with the bundle of blankets--the bundle _moved_.

Roman let out a very, very manly screech as he jumped a few feet back. The gift tumbled down onto the ground, forgotten in his flight of terror.

“‘Sup.” His roommate's head poked out from the cocoon of blankets. His purple hair messy and the dark circles underneath his eyes looked darker than usual. Upon closer inspection, there was no hint of eyeshadow smudged on.

“What are--what are you doing here, a Barrel Full of Frights?” Roman spluttered, his heartbeat still pounding from being startled, “I thought you’d be gone in Florida!”

Roman barely knew anything about his roommate. He wasn’t exactly the talkative type. He was grumpy and irritable, and tended to shoot down any attempts at conversation before they could even begin. But he always paid his rent on time and that was more than what Roman could say about the last roommate.

The guy had been pretty excited about going back to his home state for the holidays, though. He managed to say a full paragraph in Roman’s presence about it. So why was he here, in a freezing apartment and not sunny Florida?

His roommate didn’t respond, his eyes iced over in a daze. Roman’s concern intensified.

“Dude, are you okay? What happened to Florida? Why is it so cold in here?”

His roommate’s eyebrows furrowed, as if having trouble processing his words. Maybe he hadn’t heard Roman? The college sophomore wondered if he should repeat his words when the guy opened his mouth to speak.

He mumbled, “Th-the heater’s out. Landlord s-s-says it won’t be fixed until after New Years.”

That was when Roman realized something; his roommate had been shivering during their whole interaction.

“Until after New Years?!” Roman cried, “Virgil, what are you doing here?”

His roo--Virgil blinked confusedly. His mouth gaped open, but he didn’t say anything. Roman took off a glove and reached forward and felt the other’s forehead. Virgil was stone cold. He frowned.

Grump or not, nobody deserved to be alone for the Holidays. Especially in a below freezing apartment no less. Who knew how long he spent in here? Hell, was it cold enough for Virgil to develop hypothermia? The apartment was cold for Roman, and he was wearing layers.

“That’s it, I’m kidnapping you!” Roman declared, lifting Virgil from the couch and into his arms, blankets and all. Virgil was surprisingly light, which only added to his concerns. Come to think of it, had he ever seen his roommate consume anything other than coffee and the occasional nutrition bar? Although it wasn’t like the two sat down and ate meals together.

Virgil let out a small squeak of alarm as he was hoisted into the air, but made no efforts to fight Roman’s hold.

“Wh-wh-whatareyoudoing?” He asked, his words slurring together.

“Taking you to someplace warm!” Roman said, as he carried him towards the front door.

“Florida?” Virgil asked softly.

Roman stopped. He glanced down at Virgil, who could hardly keep his eyes open. He vaguely recalled hearing on the news that flights had been cancelled in the wake of the blizzard. He hadn’t even thought of how it would’ve probably affected his roommate’s chances of getting home. Still, something about the situation felt off. There was some unspoken hurt etched across the other’s half-asleep face.

“No, no not Florida. It’s my brother’s house. It has heating, unlike Elsa’s ice fortress. You can stay with us until break ends. How does that sound?”

“That s-s-sounds too good to be true.” Virgil yawned, his eyes fluttering shut at last.

“Well it is true.” Roman said, despite knowing Virgil was asleep, “I’ll prove it to you.”

He remained unconscious even as Roman placed him in the passenger seat and placed a seat buckle over him. As he settled in his own seat and turned the ignition on, Roman once again thanked any and all deities to the fact his car had seat warmers.

His hometown was normally a forty-five minute trip. Roman made it in twenty. Going that fast in the winter was foolhardy. Even with the snow plows and salt trucks to clear the road and make it safer to drive on. But Roman wasn’t the most conventionally smartest person. He was known for his quick thinking skills and in this case, it was indisputably quick.

The door to his brother’s house opened before he even reached it, Virgil nestled in his embrace. His brother stood at the other side, a rare smile gracing his features.

“I have to say, Roman, when you said you’d forgotten a Christmas present for me at your apartment, this was not what I was expecting.”

Roman’s cheeks turned bright red. Later, he’d claim it was from the cold. But it was most assuredly from embarrassment upon realizing what this looked like from his brother’s point of view.

“SHIT. I forgot--he isn’t--I mean it’s still in the house--he’s just my roommate!” Roman, in a rare act of being flustered, stammered over his words, “He’s supposed to be in Florida with his family but instead I found him inside our apartment--otherwise known as the homeworld of Jotunn frost giants--he was shivering and I thought he might have hypothermia -”

“Hold on, hypothermia?” Logan interrupted, the amused smile gone from his face.

“Um, maybe?”

“Why didn’t you take him to a hospital if that is the case?”

“I--”  
“You panicked, didn’t you?”

“I did not panic, I--” Roman huffed, “Oh, perhaps I panicked a little! Still, I brought him to someplace warm and to the smartest person I know.”

“Yes well--it’s good you have me around, isn’t it?” Logan huffed exasperatedly, “Lay him on the couch, I’ll go grab the thermometer.”

 

* * *

 

Warmth. The type of warmth that came in basking underneath the evening’s rays. The lazy, gooey feeling that made you want to do just sit and do nothing. Not nothing in a negative sense, but in a more peaceful manner. Where all thoughts ceased and he was just Virgil. He liked being just Virgil. It was a shame his parents didn’t like just Virgil.

Eyes still closed, he sighed and snuggled deeper into his blankets. He’d had the strangest dream last night. It involved his roommate picking him up in a bridal carry and something about going to Florida. He was inclined to blissfully slip back into back into that dream when an anxious thought brought a cold, icy realization to him.

It should not be warm.

He’d woke up Christmas Day with the heater broken. Merry fucking Christmas to him. He didn’t end up contacting the landlord until the day after Christmas. He wasn’t sure if they observed it, but he wanted to be on the safe side. People deserved a chance to spend time with friends and family and not have to worry about things. People that weren’t him.

Of course, the landlord would come back to him with saying that no one would be available until after New Years’. He thought about going out and purchasing a space heater, but going out meant walking in the cold, where he’d have to leave the safety of his blankets. Cold, it was so cold already with blankets wrapped around him. He couldn’t imagine walking in the outside temps. He didn’t even have a car, otherwise he would’ve taken shelter in there.

Unless a repairman had entered the apartment while he was unconscious, it should still be Mount Everest inside the apartment. Oh shit was he experiencing hypothermia? He remembered reading something once during a 2am google search that in the last stage of hypothermia victims felt incredibly warm.

That thought finally incited enough panic for him to finally jolt fully awake and open his eyes. This action caused even further panic, when he discovered he was not in his apartment but...somewhere completely unknown to him.

He was in a living room he’d never seen before. It was still decorated for Christmas; a few figurines were scattered about on the coffee table along with garland complete with a Christmas tree in the corner of the room. To the right of him there was a fireplace with an active fire inside it. It felt incredibly cozy and warm and inviting...but that still didn’t change the fact he had no idea how he ended up here. This had to be some sort of weird dream.

A figure entered from the hallway leading out of the room, and Virgil froze. Some childish part of him hoped if he closed his eyes and remained still long enough they’d go away. But before he could even feign sleep, he locked eyes with them. It was a man, perhaps in his mid to late twenties. He wore glasses, the rims wider and rounder compared to the modern, sleeker designs. The man had on a polo with a dark blue sweater over it and blue jeans. There was something about the guy that reminded Virgil of someone. Who, he couldn’t say.

The two stared at one another, neither seeming fond of being the first to speak. But it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Virgil, which meant that revered task was left to the other.

“Ah, you’re awake,” The stranger awkwardly cleared his throat, “I am certain you are confused as to where you are and--well, I shall fetch Roman for you. He will be able to explain things.”

Then the man disappeared, before Virgil could say a word. He was left on the couch, even further confused.

Roman? Why did that name sound so familiar to his ears? It took Virgil’s foggy brain half a second to remember that was his roommate’s name. But surely that was just a coincidence--

“Greetings, The Nightmare After Christmas!”

It wasn’t. It's him, it was definitely his dumb roommate who insisted on calling Virgil everything but his given name. Roman grinned at him from the same hallway as the other man from before.

“What the hell is this place?” He demanded hoarsely, forgoing all pleasantries and getting right to the point. He glared at Roman, whose grin faltered a bit. He stepped closer, though still keeping his distance.

“My brother’s house. It’s not Florida, but it’s still infinitely warmer than the apartment.”

Virgil’s eyes widened as memories, albeit fuzzy, returned to him. His dream hadn’t been a dream. Roman really just...bridal carried him like that. Virgil had been too drowsy to protest.

“Wait you really meant it?” Virgil asked, sitting up, “about staying with you and…”

“--my brother for the rest of the break?” Roman interrupted, finishing the sentence, “Of course I did.”

“Why?” Virgil croaked, eyebrows furrowing, “I’ve been nothing but a jerk to you.”

Roman laughed, because it’d been true. Part of the reason Virgil had no friends was because he refused to have a reason to actually care about Massachusetts. The other part of it was that Virgil was just shitty at making friends. He considered himself lucky every day that he somehow managed to become friends with Patton.

“To be fair, you weren’t the only jerk. I know I can be…a bit much.”

“A bit?” Virgil snorted, “You tried stealing my Jack Skellington poster the first week.”

“I was not s-stealing it, I was simply admiring it...up close!” Roman protested.

“Sure,” Virgil rolled his eyes, “still, is this some sort of ploy to get the poster? ‘Cause if so you’re out of luck. You can’t have my sick nasty Tim Burton posters.”

“What? No,” Roman snorted, before his expression turned serious, “Virgil, do you realize you were on the verge of hypothermia?”

“W--what?” Virgil asked, taken back, “I mean it crossed my mind...but I thought it was just my dumb anxiety acting up.”

This was shaping up to be one hell of a holiday season. Another series of unfortunate events that was Virgil’s life. Almost getting hypothermia was the topping on the cake after his flight got cancelled and his mom subtly ostracized him. Then there was Patton--god, Patton. He’d been too afraid to answer any of Patton’s texts or calls. He knew Patton didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He knew Patton wouldn’t take it personally. He knew all of that, and yet he hated the thought of disappointing him. Of letting his best friend down. So naturally, he let him down by not responding at all. Anxiety wasn’t very logical at times. Scratch that, it was never logical.

“Logan checked your temperature. It was at 96 Fahrenheit. He sprouted off a bunch of scientific mumbo jumbo but long story short? It was close.” Roman sighed, “Look, I’m not going to force you to stay with us. I’ll even help you find somewhere else to stay if you want.  I just think nobody deserves to be alone for the holidays. Especially in a freezing apartment no less!”

“Nobody deserves to be alone for the holidays, huh?” Virgil mused, “Even nobodies like me?”

“Of course,” Roman responded, with such ferocity it spooked Virgil.

He hadn’t even planned on Roman finding out he hadn’t made it to Florida. Roman wasn’t supposed to return to the apartment until the end of break, of course. He would’ve been none the wiser. Virgil didn’t like lying, but well--who wanted to admit they were so much of a disappointment that their family didn’t want them for the holidays?

They were only two strangers who happened to occupy the same apartment. Roman had no reason to be nice to him, to go out of his way and offer Virgil to stay with him and his brother for the Holidays.

Virgil should decline the offer and yet, there’s something about the warm glow of his roommate’s eyes that are so genuine. He wasn’t pitying Virgil or expecting something in return for this act of kindness. He was doing this because he genuinely believed nobody--including Virgil--deserved to be alone for the Holidays. Or at least, they didn’t deserve to get hypothermia. But for once, Virgil was wanting to believe the former rather the latter.

“Are you sure it’s okay? I don’t want to intrude…” Virgil’s voice trailed off.

“It’s just my brother and me--it’s been that way for awhile. I promise you won’t be a bother, if anything we’d be happy for the company. Besides, we always do an annual Disney marathon on New Years’ Eve.”

Disney. That was the one mutual link the two had. They even manage to have semi-friendly debates about the movies from time to time. If semi-friendly meant being a few steps away from ripping each other’s throats, that was. The fact that Roman was trying to bribe him into staying with Disney caused tears to form at the corners of his eyes.

 _“Weak, weak, weak._ ” His mind screamed at him, he ignored it.

“Well, you got me at Disney.” Virgil said, letting out a shaky laugh.

Roman’s face lit up like a penny arcade. He opened his mouth to say something when a faint buzzing noise interrupted his oncoming words. They both looked to see the display of Virgil’s phone on the coffee table. Virgil picked it up, biting his lip at the numerous text notifications coming from one Patton Hart💙.


	2. Please Come Home for Christmas (I'm Feeling Blue Without You Here)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton is struggling through a season of loneliness after being the only one of his friends to stay in their hometown after high school graduation. He can’t wait to reconnect with his best friend Virgil, who is coming down to Florida for Christmas break. Except, it grows increasingly apparent that might not be the case anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, here's the second chapter! I have the third part half-written and I am unsure when I'll get it done, but I'll post it whenever it's finished!

If you asked Patton Hart whether he preferred either the cold or the heat, his response would be the same if one had asked whether he liked cats or dogs the best.

“Both!” He would cheerfully say, rocking back and forth on his feet before explaining his reasoning, “I like the cold because you get to drink hot chocolate and wear warm sweaters! Back in Minnesota my house was on a hill and my siblings and I sled down the driveway all the time after it snowed.  I also like when it’s hot outside also because you get to go to the beach and play in the water and make sandcastles--oh! And eat popsicles! Cherry’s my favorite popsicle flavor! What’s yours?”

Patton was prone to rambling, jumping from topic to topic and making connections that might seem unrelated to an outside perspective. It was one of the many symptoms stemming from Patton’s ADHD.

Patton was a glass half full kind of a guy, and that was applicable when it came to his thoughts concerning ADHD. He liked to think that hypo-focus was his superpower that allowed him to concentrate and get tasks done. Just like all super powers, however, there was weaknesses that came with it. Such as hypo-focusing on cartoons instead of doing his homework.

Imagining himself as a superhero who needed to defeat the evils of Homework to save the city helped direct his energy in a more productive manner. Sure, maybe it was a bit childish, but he still very much felt like a child at heart. It was wild to think in a few months on his birthday it’d be a year since he had become a legal adult on his eighteenth birthday. Shucks, he had a hard time not referring to other older adults with a Mr. or Mrs. in front of their name. It felt wrong!

But that wasn’t the biggest thing he was struggling with in his new-found adulthood. It was the aftermath of high school, where all his friends scattered to the four winds. They all promised to keep in contact, that they’d remain best friends forever. But Patton knew how it went, having gone through something similar when he and his family moved from Minnesota to Florida when he was twelve.

Everyone promised they’d keep in contact, but sooner or later the text messages and emails would stop coming. Patton knew that there wasn’t anything malicious behind it. People, including himself, got busy with their own lives. It was natural for friends to drift apart with diverged interests and increased distances.

So it wasn’t a big surprise when the fall semester started and communication with his old high school friends drastically dropped. As they started university, they all became busy with school and work and new friends--and well, there wasn’t any room for poor Patton who stayed home and attended community college.

There was nothing inherently wrong with attending community college of course. It was a more affordable way of education, with many of the classes on the same level as both the private and state universities. There was just an unfortunate stigma surrounding it. Patton lost track of how times people asked him why wasn’t he attending a real college or telling him he was missing out on the true college experience.

He was lonely, he hated to admit it, but he was. Virgil once asked him if he ever understood the feeling of being lonely in a sea of people. He hadn’t, at the time. But now, he understood. Patton went from his early morning classes to work at the mall back to home and slept until he started his routine all over the next day. All the while he was surrounded by people, but people are different than friends.

Patton tried making new friends among his work and school, but he wasn’t stupid. He could read the atmosphere enough to know what they thought of him. He was too loud, too flighty, too _childish_. Sometimes they actually verbally expressed this.

It caused Patton to spiral further into his hyper-fixations as a coping method. But even his favorite shows wasn’t enough compared to actual human interaction.

That was why he was ecstatic when Virgil told him he was going to be in Florida for the break. Out of all his friends, he’d kept in contact with Virgil the most. It made sense--they’d been best friends for years. Sending memes and cute animal videos had become their primary method of communication. The latter was mainly Patton, but Virgil sent the occasional one. He always seemed to know just when Patton needed them, too. Their schedules didn’t mesh well, but they tried to face-time one another whenever they could. If he was being honest, those snippets of contact with Virgil was the only things that kept him sane through a stressful semester and drama at his workplace.

He hadn’t admitted to Virgil that he was lonely. He couldn’t do that, when Virgil was over a thousand miles away from home in an unfamiliar setting. Patton knew how that felt--he’d at least had his family, Virgil had no one. He was completely surrounded by strangers. Patton didn’t feel like it was fair for him to complain when he at least had stayed in the same town of the high school they’d graduated from and there was still familiar faces around.

So he kept it to himself, slipping back into old habits by keeping a smile on and skirting around the topic. Some part of him wanted Virgil to be suspicious, to demand the truth. But he knew it was unfair of him to think that way when he’d deceived Virgil in the first place. No matter how many justifications Patton tried to tack on, at the end of the day it was just that.

Virgil and him planned to spend what felt like practically Virgil’s entire stay together, starting directly after Christmas. Patton was bouncing in excitement at the thought of it. He was finally going to see his best friend again, after going months unable to meet face to face. He was going to be able to actually _hug_ Virgil instead of sending text messages with GIFs as a poor substitute to the real thing.

Except it was December 27th, and there was no hide nor hair of Virgil Raine in the town of Loving, Florida.

He stared at the last text sent to him by Virgil, trying not to sniffle. It was from December 19th, a couple days before Virgil’s flight was scheduled to leave. It wasn’t anything meaningful, really. Just a mundane text about the weather.

 **🌩️ Virgil 🌩️:** I saw some snow flurries on my way home from work today.

Patton sighed, scrolling down a bit through his own replies.

 **Patton Hart💙:** Ooo exciting! Florida still hasn’t gotten the memo that summer is over--it was almost in the eighties today!

 **Patton Hart💙:** [Image Attached: It was a photo of Patton grinning as he held up a potato chip]

 **Patton Hart💙:** I value our friend-chip

 **Patton Hart💙:** Hey Virge, I heard about the nasty winter storms up north--did your flight get canceled? I hope you’re somewhere safe! <3

 **Patton Hart💙:** Merry Christmas! 🎅🎄🎁

 **Patton Hart 💙:**...Virgil are you okay? Are we still on for Mel’s today?

There was a half page more of his own messages, but still none from Virgil himself. It was normal for communication to go silent for a few days due to the busyness of life. But he started having an uneasy feeling when Virgil didn’t respond after the first few messages he sent. That feeling only worsened when he tried calling Virgil yesterday and it went right to voicemail.

Patton always tried seeing the positives in life. Virgil was rather the opposite. He often saw only the negativities in life. Their friendship was one of an immovable object meets an unstoppable force. No one expected the social butterfly to make friends with the antisocial emo. Especially the latter. But Patton never let others’ expectations dictate how he acted, or rather who he was.

Patton was just Patton--he didn’t try to be what others wanted him to be. He felt it was unfair to both others and himself if he tried pretending to be something he wasn’t. So when the kids at his lunch table started snickering about the “creep all alone in the corner,” Patton didn’t join in. He stood up with his lunch tray and marched over there. The creep in question was a seventh grader just like Patton. He didn’t look scary like the others said. If anything, he looked scared with the way his shoulders were hunched in and he avoided eye contact. His figure was swallowed up by a hoodie two sizes too large for him.

“Hi!” Patton grinned, “My name’s Patton, mind if I join you?”

The other only grunted, avoiding direct eye contact with Patton.

It wasn’t a no, so Patton sat down and began talking. The other preteen only made the occasional grunt to let him know he was listening to Patton. It was like that for the whole week. Patton would ask to sit with him, and hold one-way conversations--never pushing for the other to talk.

Patton never minded. He talked enough for two whole people, after all. He sat with the kid to keep him company, to let him know he wasn’t alone.

On Friday of that week, the bell rang signaling the end of lunchtime and Patton stood up from the table.

“Well, see you later, kiddo!” Patton said. He walked a few paces when he heard the kid murmur something. He stopped abruptly, turning around to face the other kid.

“What’d you say?” He asked, unable to contain his excitement.

“M-my name. It’s Virgil.” The kid in the hoodie stammered, taking Patton’s excitement to mean something else.

Patton’s eyes widened. He hadn’t known his name until this moment. He tried asking him once, but let it drop after it clearly made him uncomfortable.

He’d referred to the other as just “kiddo”. It was a strange habit leftover from his toddler years when he was still learning how to speak. His father had so often used the word in reference to Patton and his siblings, that baby Patton had started calling everyone young and old kiddo.

This continued in elementary school where he’d often play the Dad when the girls his age played House. He liked pretending to be a Dad, because it meant he got impersonate his father--who was a hero in his eyes. He wasn’t fond of the more violent make-believe games that the other little boys liked to play. The girls were much nicer and considerate, even when they played games like Warriors Cats.

Sometimes, other kids had made fun of Patton calling others “kiddo.” Patton tried his best to ignore their taunts.

He had tried imagining what the boy in the hoodie’s real name was in the span of the few short days they’d known each other. Virgil wasn’t one of the names he’d guessed, it was different...but he liked different. It fit the boy in the ways Patton’s imagined names hadn’t.

“Virgil. I like it.” Patton grinned, “see you later, Virgil.”

They’d continued hanging out during lunch, and eventually outside of lunch and even school. Their friendship stayed strong into high school. Patton was there for Virgil during what happened in high school the same way Virgil was there for Patton during his break-up senior year. The two had been together through thick and thin.

Only...things were different since the two had separated. Patton knew it would happen, but it didn’t change how much it hurt. He spent almost six years as Virgil’s best friend, seeing him on a daily basis. He hadn’t seen Virgil since before he left in late July for school.

If there was one thing the two had in common, it was that they both didn’t like change.

Virgil told him things were fine over there. But what if he was lying just as much as Patton was? What if things weren’t fine?

Patton generally kept his chin up even in the most difficult circumstances. But he couldn’t help but feel dread and concern about what had happened to Virgil. He wasn’t responding to any of Patton’s texts or calls.

His mind kept going back to the terrible winter storm and wondered if it held any implications about Virgil’s whereabouts. Patton grew up in Minnesota. He knew how dangerous storms could be. This was Virgil’s first winter in a northern state--what if he was caught unaware by the storm and something bad happened?

 _It might not be that_ , a small voice in the back of his head said, _he might’ve broke his phone or something._

 _But if he broke his phone, he would’ve tried contacting you some other way_. Another voice argued.

He’d at last gathered enough courage to call Virgil’s mom and ask about him.

Patton tapped his fingers nervously against his desk while the phone dialed.

“Hello?”

“Hi Mrs. Raine!” Patton said, mustering as much warmth into his voice as possible, “It’s Patton here. I was wondering if Virgil’s home? We were planning to get together over the break but he hasn’t been responding to any--”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil’s mother briskly interrupted, “but Virgil isn’t here. He’s still up in Massachusetts.”

“W--what?” Patton asked. It shouldn’t have been such a surprise. So why did it feel like he was getting slapped in the face with a fish? Not a dead fish, mind you, but a wiggling very much alive fish that didn’t want to collide with your face anymore than you did.

“I said, he’s still in Massachusetts, honey.” She repeated her words, Southern gush in full force.

Patton liked the friendliness of Florida, but he wasn’t a fan of the “Bless your heart” Southerners that inhabited parts of Florida. He hated when people pretended to be nice when they were really being passive-aggressive. Patton preferred out-right honesty above all.

He’d never gotten good vibes off of either of Virgil’s parents. Even though they always acted like the model parents to Virgil in front of Patton. Virgil had a hard time sharing things even after Patton gained his trust. But the things he did share, made Patton question if they were truly good people or not.

“Can I ask why he’s still in Massachusetts? Did something bad happen?” Patton asked, once he regained his voice.

“Oh heavens no!” She laughed, “His flight was canceled by bad weather and all the next available flights were booked up. Virgil and us agreed it’d better if he just stayed there and saved his money--with last minute flights being expensive and all.”

That...didn’t sound right to Patton. Who didn’t want to see their child for the holidays--even if they happened to miss Christmas? The holidays was a time of fellowship with friends and family. Wouldn’t anyone move heaven and earth so that their child could be with them? It wasn’t like Virgil’s family was hurting for money, either. They had more than enough money to fund Virgil’s college education as well as go on a few cruise trips a year.

Later on, he’d wished he would have given her a piece of his mind. But in the moment he’d been too shocked to say anything of the sort.

“Oh, I see. I guess I was just really worried since he hasn’t responded to any of my texts in like a week. Do you know if he broke his phone or something?” Patton laughed awkwardly. Virgil’s mother didn’t join in.

“No, I don’t think so. I bet he’s been hanging out with his friends all week that he’s been too busy to respond to your text.”

Patton’s breath hitched. That could be a possibility, couldn’t it? It wasn’t like Virgil wasn’t allowed to have friends other than Patton. But would he really do that to Patton? Ignore him completely to go hang out with his new friends? That wasn’t like Virgil at all.

People changed a lot in five months. But they didn’t change that much, did they?

Admittedly those words had been uttered by Virgil’s mother, out of all people. Who knew if that was the truth. But whether knowingly or unknowingly, those words had pierced his heart. Patton was too emotional to think logically about it.

Quickly he thanked Virgil’s mother before ending the call. Which what led him to now, staring at his and Virgil’s text conversation. Tears blurred his vision. Should he send another text? He didn’t want Virgil to be annoyed by him being too clingy. He didn’t want to lose what little remained of their friendship.

Yet at the same time, he couldn’t handle the fading friendships where both pretended everything was fine, that their friendship wasn’t dying. He’d done enough of those during this year. He couldn’t do it with Virgil, his bestest friend.

 **Patton Hart 💙:** Hey kiddo...are we still friends?

 **Patton Hart 💙:** It’s okay if we aren’t!! I know how you are, Virge, you don’t have to feel obligated to remain friends. Seasons come and go, y’know? Not everything lasts...and that’s okay. I still cherish every memory we spent together. But if you want me to stop meownoying you with texts, I’ll understand.

Except, despite those words he sent to Virgil, he was a huge freaking hypocrite. He sat there, flitting with the pop socket on his phone, sobbing. Loud, ugly sobs. He was thankful he was alone in his family’s house so he could suffer in solitude.

He didn’t want to lose Virgil even more than he hadn’t wanted to lose any of his other friends. Virgil was his best friend, after all. They’d done everything together. Patton knew sooner or later he’d be able to make new friends. This season of loneliness wouldn’t last forever. But knowing something didn’t mean his feelings ceased from existence.

People always placed romance having more importance over friendships. But Patton, having gone through a breakup, couldn’t understand that view. Relationships and friendships were equated in his mind. Friends were important. Often the best romantic relationships start off as friendships. He’d prefer friends, even if it meant never loving in that way again.

Once he finished crying for the most part, he went downstairs, clutching a blanket over his shoulders. It dragged behind him on the floor, a sad excuse for a cape.

He opened the refrigerator, reaching for the ice cream, when his phone went off. He fished it out of his pocket, hands trembling. It was a skype call. From Virgil.


	3. Faithful Friends Who Are Dear to Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A skype call ensues between our two protagonists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was such a chore to write but it's finally done!! Many thanks to Acantha_Echo for beta'ing as always <3

Virgil stared at his phone.

“I’m such a screw-up.” He whispered underneath his breath.

He hadn’t responded to any of his best friend’s texts and now Patton thought he hated him. When in actuality, that was very much the opposite. Virgil loved his best friend so much that he feared the idea of being rejected by him. It had been so stupid to ignore Patton like that.

Of course Patton would think he think he hated him. Virgil had given him the silent treatment all week. Worse, Virgil had broke his promise of reuniting with him in Florida. It’d been so easy in the moment to avoid breaking the truth to Patton. He was now paying for the repercussions of his actions.

Would Patton still want to be friends with him after all this? Virgil wouldn’t want to be friends with himself.

Roman cleared his throat, causing Virgil to jump. He’d almost forgotten he was in the same room as him.

“I know it’s not my place,” He began, “but whoever this “Patton” character is to you, they seem to care a lot about you.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow, “You’ve been reading my text messages?”

He really should be more pissed off about that than he was. Virgil coveted his privacy, protecting his phone from prying eyes like a hawk. But he could hardly bring himself to care about that in the midst of his pity party.

“Only the ones that popped up on your screen. I don’t know your phone’s password, I swear!” Roman said, attempting to justify it, although he looked as ashamed as he rightfully should be, “They even tried calling you at one point. I was going to answer it, but Logan advised against it. Said it was an invasion of your privacy.”

Virgil glanced back down at his phone. Well, that explained why it was on the coffee table and not his hoodie pocket. His phone screen went black and he pressed the home button, turning it on once more. Patton’s last two text messages peered back at him. 

_Patton Hart 💙: Hey kiddo…are we still friends?_

_Patton Hart 💙: It’s okay if we aren’t!! I know how you are, Virge, you don’t have to feel obligated to remain friends. Seasons come and go, y’know? Not everything lasts…and that’s okay. I still cherish every memory we spent together. But if you want me to stop meownoying you with texts, I’ll understand._

Virgil let out a strained sound, something halfway between a sob and a laugh. Trust Patton to still slip in a pun in a text like that. Patton loved puns. Virgil also loved puns, a dark secret of his that Patton alone knew. Virgil couldn’t openly admit to liking puns. It messed with his edgy emo vibes. 

Meownoying. What a godawful, cheesy pun. In any other context, Virgil would be covering his mouth in a poor attempt to mask his laughter.

He glanced over back to Roman, who stood a few feet away from him. Roman crossed his arms in a relaxed manner, eyes wide with concern. He opened his mouth, his breath hitching at the last second. For the first time since Virgil had known him, Roman looked hesitant. It was clear he wanted to help in some way, but he didn’t know how. Virgil didn’t blame him. They may have spent a whole semester living in the same apartment, but they were at best acquaintances and at worst, strangers.

Virgil sighed, gripping onto his phone tighter.

“Patton is my best friend. Or at least he was,” He said, staring down at the carpeted floor, “The two of us have been friends since middle school. We had planned on meeting up while I was back home in Florida. You can guess how that turned out.”

He wasn’t sure why he was telling this to Roman. It was stupid. Maybe being alone in that apartment for three days without heat caused some brain damage. He explained what had happened to Roman. Well, almost everything. He left out what exactly kept from getting another flight.

Several times he looked up at Roman, expecting him to laugh or make fun of him. Roman did none of those things. He instead leaned against the side of the couch, patiently listening to him. After he finished, there was a lapse of silence. Then Roman spoke,

“You should talk to him.”

Virgil groaned. That damn dreaded phrase. Of course, what else could Roman say? It was true. Only talking would solve this situation. It didn’t mean he didn’t still loathe the idea of it.

“I know.” Virgil said, gritting his teeth as his gaze drifted to the floor, “It’s just I’m…scared.”

It was stupid, Virgil knew, to be afraid of contacting Patton. It wasn’t like the apocalypse would come to fruition or anything. The best-case scenario is that they would remain friends. The worst-case scenario is that they…wouldn’t remain friends and god, that felt worse than death to Virgil. Patton was his only friend, the only person who knew him better than even his parents. Virgil was going to lose him, and like everything else in life, it was all his fault.

He doubted that Roman would understand. From what little he knew of the other, he was confident, cocky, fearless–

“There is no shame in being afraid, you know. I were you, I think I would just as afraid.” Roman said, causing his whirling thoughts to grind to a halt.

“Really?” Virgil gawked up at him.

“Well yeah,” Roman said as he sat down on the couch beside Virgil, “even the bravest of knights have fears.”

“If they’re brave, how can they be afraid then?” Virgil quirked an eyebrow.

“Because bravery is not the absence of fear, it is the ability to continue despite it,” Roman smiled softly, “it is okay to be afraid. However, you must question whether or not is worth it to conquer your fear.”

When Virgil kept staring at him blankly, Roman continued.

“Friendship is like—like a ship!” He snapped his fingers together, “Made up of you and a fellow seafaring traveler—a friend. Together you embark on a wondrous journey, experience amazing things together! But sometimes you might encounter stormy weather or some sort of…sea-witch that threatens to wreck your friend-ship. 

“And! You can only save it if you gather the courage to do so. If you jump ship out of fear, the ship will sink. I suppose the question you must ask yourself is: are you willing to go on living with your friendship becoming a shipwreck, or are you willing to attempt to save it from such a fate?”

“Wow…” Virgil said, after finding his voice, “that was incredibly cheesy.”

He’d known Roman had a flair for the dramatics. Once before midterms he found Roman saying a eulogy over his broken jar of crofters jam at 4am in the morning. Still, as cheesy as it’d been, Virgil couldn’t help but be moved.

The fear of rejection was a strong fear. But could he truly live with regrets? Regrets about how he hurt Patton? Regrets about how he didn’t try to fix it? He knew all those fond memories he shared with Patton would become tainted with those regrets. He didn’t want that to happen.

“But,” Virgil spoke up again, “you do have a point.”

-

Anxious_EmoNightmare is calling…

Patton sunk to the floor beside the refrigerator. He ignored its insistent beeping for him to shut the freezer door. Instead he focused his attention on his phone. Virgil’s profile pic stared back at him. Not a picture of himself, rather, but a drawing of the two Patton had made and given him.

Virgil was an amazing artist, with the knack of creating art that invoked true emotion from the viewer. Patton’s art, on the other hand, was barely a step above stick figures. Still, Virgil treasured Patton’s art enough to use it as a profile pic.

“Aw shucks, kiddo, it’s nothing compared to yours!” Patton had laughed, ducking his head bashfully.

“Yeah but…it’s special ‘cause you made it,” Virgil’s cheeks flushed before mumbling under his breath, “Besidesmyartiskindashittyanyways.”

“What was that?”

“My art is kinda sh–crappy!”

“I will physically fight you if you don’t stop talking about you and your art!” Patton gasped, “Your art is just as–as wonderful, unique and superb as you are!”  
“No it isn’t.” Virgil groaned, hiding his face with his hands.

“Yes it is!”

“Not it isn’t.”

“Is.”

“Isn’t!”

Patton smiled slyly, “No it isn’t!”

“Yes it is!” Virgil yelled, before the realization dawned on his face.

“So, you doooo admit it.” Patton said as he attempted to keep himself from chuckling.

“You–you tricked me.” Virgil protested, before the two finally burst together into laughter.

That memory usually made him smile. Not today, with his heart hammering in his throat. He stared at the skype call notification, vision blurred with tears. God, he was sick of tears. It felt like in the past year alone, he’d cried enough tears to last a lifetime.

He knew he had to pick up. Time was running short. Hastily, he wiped away his tears and shut the fridge door with his phone-less hand. He took one long deep breath, then pressed accept.

At once the phone screen went blank. A small part of Patton hoped it stayed blank. Then a fuzzy pixelated image came to life–the familiar face of his best friend Virgil filled the screen. He was hunched up in his signature plaid hoodie. The purple bangs that covered half his face made it difficult to tell if he was making eye contact. Patton didn’t recognize his friend’s surroundings at all–meaning he wasn’t at his apartment. Perhaps he was at a friend’s house. The very thought of Patton distracting Virgil from his new friends made his stomach squirm.

Patton swallowed, “H-hey–”

The call immediately ended.

He stared at his phone’s home screen, eyebrows furrowed. Should he call back or…?

Anxious_EmoNightmare is calling…

His phone started buzzing again as Virgil’s profile pic popped up once more. This time Patton clicked on it within the first buzz. Virgil appeared again, fiddling with the sleeve zippers of his hoodie. Patton could hear him taking in slow, measured breaths.

“Uh, sorry.” Virgil said, breaking the palpable silence, “I got…anxious.”

“It’s okay, kiddo.” Patton mustered up a thin smile.

 Distantly, in his mind, he worried about what was the cause of Virgil’s anxiety. He knew Virgil was inherently an anxious person whose many fears were largely unfounded. Patton knew this and still loved him, anxiety and all. 

Patton’s words did everything but alleviate Virgil, who shrunk even further into himself.

“Look Pat, I’m just gonna come out and say it:  it was really shitty of me to ignore your texts for a whole week like that, I shouldn’t have done that–”

“It’s okay, kiddo!” Patton’s smile grew flimsier, unable to keep his voice from cracking, “I know you were probably busy with your friends and all.”

Virgil flinched as if Patton’s words slapped him in the face. He didn’t understand Virgil’s reaction, which alarmed him. Patton usually had a great read on Virgil. Or at least he did five months ago.

“Friends?” Virgil echoed.

“Yeah, friends,” Patton said,  “I, um, called your mom–”

“You called my mom? Why?” Virgil demanded.

“I was worried sick!” Patton cried out, a spark of rage he didn’t realize he possessed ignited, “You weren’t responding to my texts or my phone calls. It’s been a whole week– and with the blizzard, I thought maybe you died!”

Tears rolled down his cheeks as Patton pressed on, “So I called your mom, because I had to know that you were at least okay. And she told me you decided to stay in Massachusetts and–and you were probably busy hanging out with friends. Which is fine! I’m fine! But at least text your best friend and tell them what the hell’s going on.”

Virgil stared at him, pupils dilated and mouth agape. In the stillness, all Patton could hear is Virgil heavily breathing into the mic. Any other time it broke Patton to see his best friend look so…devastated. Not this time. It felt almost triumphant to incite such a reaction in Virgil. 

Patton leaned against the refrigerator, heart clanging loudly inside his chest. He hated being angry. He didn’t like how it made him feel. There was just something savagely satisfying about lashing out in anger and it scared him how much he liked it. Patton was angry, yes. He was also frustrated, hurt, confused and a thousand other related synonyms. None of which justified lashing out at Virgil in that way.

“Look, Virge. I’m sorry–”

“No,” Virgil cut in, grimacing, “Don’t apologize, Pat. You have a right to be upset and I–I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore. I mean, you probably have better friends back in Florida…”

Virgil choked, unable to finish his own sentence. His voice had been relatively calm up until this moment. It’d been that faux calm, one that came from practicing words one hoped never to utter. If Patton knew anything about Virgil and his anxiety, that was most definitely the case.

“Virgil,” Patton inhaled, “I don’t have…any other friends.”

“What?” Virgil asked, looking up at him incredulously.

“Well, I do have friends!” Patton quickly amended, “Not just friends friends if you know what I mean. They’re more like acquaintances if I’m being honest. They’re work and school friends–so they tolerate me because they have to, not because they like me and really they think I’m too  annoying and childish–sorry! I’m rambling. I–I haven’t really kept in contact with anyone out of high school besides you. I know it’s pathetic, but you’re my only friend Virgil and I don’t want to lose you–please.”

Virgil blinked at him. Then he laughed, hard enough for tears to come out. High and lilting. Nothing like his usual quiet chuckles. Out of all the outcomes he imagined, Virgil laughing wasn’t one of them. Except it happened. Usually getting a laugh out of Virgil was the highlight of his day. He’d never imagined hearing it would cause his heart to break. He almost considered ending the call there, forgetting it even happened. 

The hurt in his face must’ve shown, because Virgil ceased laughing abruptly.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh, I just…” He pauses, fiddling with the ends of his hoodie strings, “Honest to God, you’re my only friend too.”

“What?” Patton croaks out, eyes bulging, “But your mother said–”

“Yeah, well, like a lot of things about my life she was wrong.” Virgil snapped, his ire obviously reserved for her and not Patton.

“Virgil, what…happened?” Patton asked, soft and hesitant.

He was beginning to think that he had the story all wrong. Maybe Virgil didn’t hate him. That he hadn’t change plans last minute without informing Patton or ignored him out of malice. He was still the Virgil Patton knew and loved. He had to be.

Virgil’s fingers tightened around his hoodie strings. His eyes were closed, and Patton could tell by his controlled breaths he was trying to quell his anxiety.

“It’s really stupid,” Virgil begins, “and most of it is my fault because I got anxious and then my one rational brain cell left the building. My mother–she–well, she–”

Virgil let out a huff, frustrated by his inability to speak. Why had he thought a Skype call would be a good idea versus simply texting? Screw it being a show of genuity–he had always been better at transcribing his thoughts in written words rather than spoken ones. He could form his thoughts into a semi-coherent message whereas real time didn’t leave much room for error.

“It’s alright, Virgil,” Patton spoke up, “take your time.”

He looked up at the screen, at Patton who smiled back at him. Not mockingly, but a real, authentic smile meant to reassure him. It was then he remembered why he treasured Patton’s friendship. In high school, people always overlooked Patton as a bubbly airhead. They overlooked his kindness, his refusal to let anyone feel excluded from things. He may not have ever received the top grades in academic subjects, but he possessed wisdom in spades.

Aided by Patton’s encouragement, Virgil continued. His words weren’t perfect. He stumbled and stuttered his way through an explanation. But Patton waited patiently until he regained control of them again. Virgil told him everything. 

He admitted to Patton what really happened in the phone conversation between him and his mother. How he accepted her words without a fight, like a coward. How he felt abandoned by his parents, out of sight out of mind. How he spiraled into an anxiety attack, believing he couldn’t tell Patton. Couldn’t let him down or expect Patton to help with his air fares. He thought Patton would forget about him, too busy with hanging out with his real friends to notice Virgil’s absence.

He told him about the broken heater. How he wallowed in his misery rather than figure out a short-term solution for his problem. Waddled up in blankets, lying on a couch. If it hadn’t been for his roommate Roman–well, he didn’t want to think about it. 

“He kidnapped you?” Patton asked, gasping.

It had been the first time Patton had said something. All up to this point, he remained attentively listening. Occasionally he nodded or hummed sympathetically to let Virgil know he was paying attention.

“Well, sort of,” Virgil grimaced, “The cold kinda got to me. He was worried I had hypothermia and got a bit panicked. He took me to his brother’s place and offered to let me stay here for the rest of the break. He, well, he encouraged me to talk to you. He’s…a pretty nice dude. Don’t you dare tell him I said that, or it’ll get to his head.”

“Got it.” Patton said, nodding sagely as if the chances of them ever interacting weren’t slim. His eyebrows furrowed, waiting for Virgil to lead the conversation in what direction he’d prefer. A terrible decision, really. Virgil knew the words he had to utter, words that could truly do nothing to fix the damage already done.

“Patton, I’m so sorry about everything,” Virgil blurted out. Quick. Like ripping off a band-aid. He shut his eyes tight, unable to see Patton’s reaction. Because if he couldn’t see it, maybe it’d hurt less when Patton denied his apology. Anxiety logic.

“Virgil…” Patton said softly, “of course I forgive you.” 

Immediately a colossus weight lifted up of Virgil at those words. But Patton wasn’t finished speaking, “Who I can’t forgive are your parents.”

“My parents?”

“Virgil, I only know a little from what you told me about them,” Patton hesitated, “but from what I know, you deserve better. They belittle you, refuse to acknowledge your own feelings and insist you only do things their way…that’s not love, Virgil. That’s not how family should act. After all, you can’t spell ‘FAM’ without I L Y.”

Virgil gaped up at Patton’s grainy image on the screen. This news shouldn’t be a huge surprise to him. He knew his parents did some questionable things when it came to parenting. But he had always thought it was his anxiety over-magnifying things. Making mountains out of molehills. 

To hear someone point it out and insist it wasn’t right and to have that person be Patton…well.

“You’re not mad at me?” Virgil blurted out, “But I ruined everything, if maybe I’d–”

“Virge, I was more worried than upset,” Patton interrupted firmly, “I was worried about losing our friendship, but more importantly I was worried if you were okay.”

“Oh,” Virgil said faintly, “Well you shouldn’t worry, ‘cause that’s my job.”

“I care about you, I’m going to worry whether you like it or not, mister.” 

“Well maybe I’m not worth worrying over.”

“How dare you!” Patton gasped dramatically, “I will physically fight you!”

“Pat, you’re not even here with me–”

“I will personally book a ticket to Massachusetts if I have too!”

“Wait you’d do that? For real?”

“Well, of course,” Patton said, “we’re best friends, aren’t we?”

Virgil stared at him. Patton’s tear-encrusted face alit with a soft glow. His lips pressed into a small smile, one that always been reserved for Virgil and him alone. He felt both foolish and grateful. Foolish for ever doubting Patton. Grateful for the fact that Patton refused to give up on him, even when Virgil himself believed he should.

“Yeah, of course,” Virgil agreed, a lump forming in his throat, “I, uh, value our friend-chip a lot.”

Patton’s resulting squeal almost broke Virgil’s eardrums. But that was okay, because he’d rather be deaf if it meant he was still friends with one Patton Hart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, I have planned four parts to this story. The next and final part will be an epilogue and it will hopefully not take another six months for me to post it, but I really can't make any promises at this point <3


End file.
